At Whit's End (Wells Ranch, #4)(92)

Whit


It’s been a few days since Alex first asked about taking Jonas to the fall fair, and because this is evidently the one thing he seriously wants to follow through with, he’s been relentless. This morning things came to a head when I had to break the news that Jonas wants to go with his new friend: the boy he met at the Wells Ranch party. I spent my coffee break yelling at Alex on the phone, and I’ve been ignoring text message after text message since I hung up.

So when I hear the slam of Colt’s truck door in my driveway, I log off and push my desk chair back with so much intensity it nearly tips. I pass Betty on the stairs, her tail preemptively wagging as she beelines to Jonas’s room. He’s been back at school for a couple days, but she needs to see for herself that he isn’t here.

When I round the corner, Colt’s kicking his boots off. He smiles at me, plucking his cowboy hat from his head and tossing it onto the bench. I slide my hands across the prickly scruff on his jaw and kiss him. Hard. I needed this. Needed him.

His tongue invades my mouth, pulling a moan from deep in my chest as he walks me backward. His hand grips the back of my skull, protecting my head even when the rest of my body hits the wall with a dull thud. With a rough inhale, Colt devours my kiss, hands moving to grip my breasts through my button-down blouse. The movement tugs at my top, untucks it from the waistband of my trousers, giving permission for Colt to reach underneath and skim his fingers over my bare stomach. He grips my waist, pulling my pelvis to meet his.

We communicate in lips and hips and sinful whimpers that echo in the empty house. No interruption in our kissing, even as he rips open the buttons of my blouse and grinds his hard bulge against the place sobbing for his touch.

His mouth leaves mine to trail down my neck, and I shimmy out of what’s left of my shirt, biting down on my lip at the feel of his fingers sliding around my back to unclasp my bra. The air between us is hot and thick, and I can’t think well enough to form words when he’s sucking my nipple into his mouth before my bra has hit the floor.

He suckles and licks and nips at my tits, and I rake my nails down his back, wishing they were sharp enough to tear this shirt to pieces to feel his naked body on mine. None of this is close enough. I want to be under his skin, fully encompassed in Colt, taken out of this world, forever lost in this moment.

I’m unable to form words. Only uneven humming leaves my lungs.

Seeming to read my mind, he breaks contact for barely long enough to yank his T-shirt overhead, then he’s right back to stealing my breath. His lips part, letting me taste him—consume him.

Every shred of fabric, every wisp of air is too much between us. My pants and underwear skate down my thighs, a trail of goosebumps cropping up in their wake. Colt’s aren’t far behind, leaving his hard cock between us. A small bead of moisture formed along his slit tightens something in my core—a too-tight guitar string dangerously plucked with every twitch and jerk of his erection.

I bury my mouth in the crook of his neck, hand cutting through the space to stroke him. He groans—gravelly and pained. Then he’s settling his hands along the backs of my thighs. For no more than a heartbeat, his fingertips massage the tight muscle before he hoists me into his arms, dragging my back up the wall.

I moan, all achy heat and deep-seated yearning. My thighs instinctively wrap around his hips, the space between them cadenced with throbs of desire. I rock against his bare cock, silently begging him to snap. Let it slip in.

His shaft glides between my pussy lips, slipping with ease through where I’m drenched. When he ceases kissing me to catch his breath with the slow roll of his pelvis, I want to say something. But my mind’s only thinking Colt, Colt, Colt. It’s him. Only him on my tongue, under my hands, in the tattered beat of my heart.

“Please,” we whimper in unison.

He smiles against my teeth, capturing my soft laughter and giving it back with his forehead pressed to mine. It’s only funnier when it dawns on me that this is the first time either of us has spoken since he showed up. Now here we are, naked and needy and giggling while pressed against the wall in my entryway.

And then he’s stroking into me, slow and deep, in the waning flutter of our laughter. I moan at every glorious inch of him, threading my hands through his hair and leaning into the tender ache of my body stretching to accommodate him.

His lips ghost over my cheek to plant a sweet kiss on the shell of my ear. His words blow hot on my skin. “Fuck, I missed you, honey.”

I whisper back, “It’s only been a few days.”

“Even an hour is too long.”

He thrusts forward with a primal grunt, fingertips bruising the backs of my straining thighs.

“An hour?” I smirk against his warm cheek, the sandpaper roughness catching on my lip. “Colt, I think you’re a touch obsessed with me.”

“I fantasize about fucking you every second of every damn day.” He breathes raggedly, snapping his hips forward to fill my vision with stars. “Of having every part of you.”

I cling to him as if I’m drowning, holding on with everything I have. Nails drag down his back, dragging him deeper inside me.

“You have me.” I tighten with a jerking motion when his cock nudges against something sensitive, something that floods my senses.

“Fuck,” Colt whimpers into my neck. “Fuck, you can’t do that. I won’t last long.”